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Little Red Hatchett Aden Rossinni“A story about knowing what you are, losing what you are, discovering that you have lost your way, and finding it again. A story of innocence and love. A man determined to find his way back to boyhood where his dreams are solid, where life is simpler, and a time when he was at the closest point to actually knowing himself.”

Chapter 1 Brisbane 5.45 Sept 2012The silence at the end of the phone said that the gravity of the situation was serious to say the least. Andrew had never known his best friend to be stuck for words. He was opinionated that’s for sure and without a doubt he’d drop sarcasm or a patronising tone disguised as humour, but silence; anguish even, was new. Thank God, Andrew thought to himself. He was sure that Jared could hear his thoughts or at least knew him enough to know how much the phone call had meant.The call hadn’t begun with blubbering.‘Hey!’ Andrew answered seeing Jared’s number come up on the screen. Plus, there wasn’t anybody else that would be calling him.‘Get a job you bum.’ Jared jumped straight into it as per normal.‘I’m trying.’‘Try harder.’ Jared confirmed.‘It’s not that easy you know.’ Andrew pleaded.‘Sure, sure.’Another voice - that’s all it took. It probably didn’t have to be his best friend, it just happened to be. Andrew burst into tears - that was all the pretence he could keep up. A forty-two year old man, walking across the Grey Street Bridge towards Roma street station side. The sun had almost but disappeared, the wind had picked up and the suffocating heat of the day was wearing thin. It had been another long day for Andrew O’Brien. He was a stranger to the city of Brisbane, but it hadn’t taken him long to work out how things worked.It had only been six weeks since he arrived at Brisbane airport, travelling through the States from Colombia on a shoe string budget, meagre hopes of work and visions of his rescued family. That day was just the last straw. Jared, as a friend, had always been there for Andrew, just as Andrew had been there for him but it was always in a different way. Jared had never needed financial assistance of any kind. The only thing that he lacked was a confidant; someone that he could confide in the most trivial of things, but Andrew had been struck with a kind of financial leprosy since childhood.~Spence oval, Canberra 1979The boy ran across the recently mowed sports ground without a care in the world. The grass field seemed to have no beginning and no end. To one side of the ground was a cricket pitch confined within steel mesh nets. The pitch itself was merely a slab of once-white concrete that trailed off into dirt where a bowler would end his run up. Next to the cricket nets there was a row of gum trees, tall, alone, cut off from what was once a bushland setting and at the end of the row a carpark fashioned from black tarmac, barely visible white lines and surrounded by pine-wood beam fencing. Inside the carpark, to one corner was an industrial size garbage bin; one of the ones that with two plastic lids. The lids were usually kept closed via a mammoth lock, but sometimes the council gardener would forget to lock it and then it became a community garbage bin for the locals. Most assumed the garbage came from the government housing next to the oval, the kind where Andrew lived, but it wasn’t the case – Andrew had witnessed cars pulling up and dumping their rubbish and then quickly scurrying off, and many of the housing commission homes didn’t have a household car, he knew that. That would make him sad.On the opposite side of the oval there was another row of trees and shrubs that separated that part of the oval to another part, hardly used. At the end of that row was a sand pit, mainly used on carnival days for long jump. That was the closest point to Andrew’s house. The distinction of the oval and his house was made clearer by a cement footpath that ran from the Spence shops to the other far end being Spence Primary School.For him the oval was a sanctuary. It was a place where dreams could be fashioned in many different forms. The oval itself was made up of three grassed areas, but the mere fact that the space was smack bang on the edge of housing commission was a lucky break for the O’Brien family.

Little Book of Love -poems and thoughts

A little book of poems and thoughts that delight the senses, inspire the masses and possibly shock the system.Take a journey through the heart and mind of Robby A. Lyon as he offers ideas and word sculptures to impart feelings of sorrow, humor, lust and philosophy.

A Cut Abovea novel

OUT NOW IN eBOOK AT AMAZON : http://www.amazon.com/Cut-Above-Robby-Lyon-ebook/dp/B00RURKYRA/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1420519993&sr=8-2&keywords=robby+lyon

By Robby A. LyonGenre: Urban Adventure-Literary Fiction

This is a story about a boy who is discovered outside an urban office in New York sitting next to a wondrously large tree. His father has passed away and he's left with nothing and nobody in his life. As you would expect from the urban dwellers of New York city, they give him a tough time for ditching school and perhaps being a little strange but the ensuing friendship that develops brings forth change, love and a new life for all as they bond in another country while looking for Trey's 'adopted' sister.Sometimes what begins as sarcastic, dry and perhaps aloof, becomes something worth holding onto forever.

Out now in e-book (6/1/2015) coming in paperback soon.

An excerpt: Lester Calfort never approached the cooler when so many hovered around its circumference. He preferred to take his liquid alone but that wasn’t going to happen; they lingered as if it was a pub. Fuck-off he thought to himself; Lester didn’t have time for this office showdown so he leaned a little while longer at his doorway hoping they’d go. At the other end of the Orifice were James and Pearce. They sat next to each other like small children at attention waiting for the teacher to tell them they dressed well today. James’ hair was purposefully wet and combed, sort of a lick-of-the cow kind of do; he still wore his jacket at his desk and his tie was perfectly aligned.

Sister Earth - THE SAUDARI CHRONICLES

It is 2042 – a city in the mountains of Colombia. A club is formed by four siblings called the OED. Their parents escaped World War III, leaving their home in England for the safety of Colombia. Something has led them into discovering what has been happening on Earth for centuries, that the father of two of them is inextricably involved, that they themselves are only human by name, and if they don’t come to terms with their own fate the Earth might not be around long enough to host anyone’s future.

History can be surprising, confronting and misinterpreted, but one thing is for sure – it’s written by the victor. Our Little Every-day would become the world’s brightest hour....

Extract:A Memory is always there and depends on not the body or its devices but only on the beings willingness to retrieve the information that it has cast into the ether like an undulating wave. A memory exists in actuality as an idea, a bolt of light – thought – life. *********

Of the millions of universes and galaxies that have been conceived of yours is but one and although it is important to you and your nearest and dearest friends and family; it is only a figment of your creation and who am I to tell you what to do with yourself? *********

A breeze fluttered about touching all and nothing. The sun appeared and then disappeared at the bequest of the clouds that overhung the tatty neighborhood. Chulos circled in wide arcs their great wingspan stiff, reluctant to bend to the will of the wind. They waited for anything; an opportunity; a time – their time. The main street was bubbling. Little tykes, still-wet hair, slicked back; skinny street dogs, rib cage pressing their dirt-ridden skin, fur shaved by societies lack of attention. A mother scolds her child for not eating her breakfast. Sounds pierce the poverty, bounce off and return to whence they came without effect. It took more than that to turn a head in the neighborhood – something unusual or at least out of the ordinary.

Beppi Love
the sauce, trust nobody, and live to eat.

By: Robby A. LyonGenre: AdventureBeppi and Mare are newly wed's who plan a life of tranquility, space andadventure in Italy when they eventually make the move. Things don't quite go to plan as they find themselves embroiled in a bitter dispute involving rivaling clans.Will they stay in Italy, will the life they want be just a pipe-dream? Join them on an adventure through Italy's south where they discover that the double edged side of a slow-cooking sauce may not be to everyone's taste.

AntiKythera The COMIC - Coming soon!

Coming soon to a comic-book store near you: Antikythera, a space opera/humorous/speculative fiction comic based on the novelette by Lance Dismal.

A 'C - Book'

A Cook's Journal/Diary

A 'C-book' is a cook's journal/diary.This will be released in the form of an e-book and traditional format.As yet untitled, the c-book will cover a range of topics from pasta sauces, the making of pasta, cakes, biscuits, salads and other main meals.Defined more by its simple and practical approach and the sheer love of food and all that it entails, the c-book will be a celebration of an every-day look into cooking as part of life, that sustains, colours and enthralls all the senses.Written from the perspective of a hospitality professional with over thirty years experience combined with a love of simple, 'farmer fare' type meals that anyone can learn to master.